


Only Blue or Black Days

by Britomart_heart



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19002748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Britomart_heart/pseuds/Britomart_heart
Summary: tumblr prompt- We’re always at the fitness centre at the same time and end up competing on the treadmill.





	Only Blue or Black Days

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in... three years? Anyway here's a Braime one shot because I have a lot of Feelings(tm). Let me know if you enjoyed!

Brienne knew that doing her postgrad at winterfell meant that she'd better get used to the cold, but gods, she wasn't expecting cold like _this._ When the snow and frost became too much to bare for her morning run, the twenty-four-hour gym suited her needs. Going in the small hours of the morning grounded her, distracted her from the dreams that plagued her, and best of all, the curious stares that followed her were few and far between.

The treadmills were also always free, which was a bonus.

Running grounded her in a way that nothing else did- except perhaps swimming. But the smell of chlorine gave her pounding headaches, and the nearest ocean was miles away, so running it was. Regulating her breathing, the rhythm of her feet, how it matched the steady drum of her heart, it calmed her. She never asked what exactly she was running from, or too, but it helped, and she always felt odd when she skipped her morning jog.

Brienne had been using the gym every day for several weeks before he started showing. It was easy to notice new faces, the few people who voluntarily turned up at the gym at four am were a regular sort, and there was a sense of comradery between them, which Brienne liked. Any new face was a cause of interest, regardless of what it looked like.

Unfortunately, this new face happened to look like it had been carved by the gods. She recognised him from some of her lectures, the compulsory ones. It would be difficult to forget a face like that.

He was strong and golden, a genuine Apollo, just strolling through the boring, generic, space. He seemed completely at ease with the stares, and Brienne felt herself flush from head to toe just looking at him. His emerald eyes met her sapphire, as he looked her up and down. Something unreadable flashed across his face, and Brienne blushed again, knowing exactly what he was thinking. She had long become comfortable in her body, knowing that nothing would ever change it, but under his scrutiny, old insecurities rose up. She shook the dark thoughts away and started up her treadmill.

Just from hearing the treadmill beside her start up, she somehow knew it was him without looking. She gritted her teeth, knowing that every other treadmill on the row was empty. So he was an asshole then. She wasn’t surprised, in her experience men like him usually were. She tapped at the screen increasing the speed. Seconds later he did the same.

She tested it again ten minutes later, increasing her speed. He did the same immediately. She chanced a look at him, and he winked back. 

An asshole with something to prove.

It was the same routine for weeks before they spoke, every morning the exact same. He’d always take the treadmill beside her, and it was always end in some silent competition, increasing speeds and inclinations until the time ended. Brienne was never entirely sure who the victor was, with them both heading to the showers, red faced and sweaty. Of course, he still looked glorious, while she no doubt looked even more hideous than usual.

Not that she cared.

On a cold December morning, she warmed up slower than usual, waiting for him to appear. Bastard was late, and if she was honest with herself, she enjoyed showing him up, just a little bit. And she always ran longer and faster with him beside her, out of spite she told herself. But then maybe she had something to prove too.

She waited an extra ten minutes, before finally accepting that he just wasn’t going to show. No matter. She barely knew the guy, she could run without him.

He didn’t show the next morning. Or the next. A full week passed before he showed again, the energy he brought with him crackling with fury and repressed anger. The place was empty except for them, and Brienne nearly cringed away from him when he stepped up to the treadmill beside her. He began running at a furious pace, and she struggled to catch up. Then he increased the speed and inclination to almost maximum, and then faster still. Her throat went dry with exertion, the sweat from her brow stinging at her eyes. Then suddenly there was a crash beside her, so fast she it took her a minute to register what had happened.

The treadmill was still running, but her partner was no longer there. Instead he was sprawled on the floor, clutching his wrist. Brienne blinked slowly, reaching over to shut down the machine, staring at the roaring mess on the ground.

“What Wench, are you stupid as well as ugly? I fell.” he spat, sitting up, still holding his right wrist. Brienne raised her brow.

“I can see that. Hold on.” She handed him his water bottle, then left the room. She returned minutes later with an ice pack and the first aid box. She sat down cross legged across from him and stretched out her hand.

“Let’s see it.” She said calmly, indicating for him to show her his arm. She may as well have asked him to detach his head from his shoulders by the look of confusion he gave her.

“I’m sorry?”

“I have some first aid training, I’ll be able to see if it’s broken or not.” She flexed her fingers again, and he wordlessly placed his hand in her open palm. She tried not to flush at the contact, examining his wrist, gently testing his range of motion.

“I think it’s only a sprain. I can strap it up for you now if you like, but you should really get it seen to by your doctor just in case.”

He nodded, still looking at her like she might attack at any moment. Brienne fought to roll her eyes, as she began wrapping up his wrist and hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked quietly, wrapping the ice pack in a towel and placing it against the injury. He hissed quietly at the pressure, before relaxing slightly.

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever had you so distracted that it sent you flying onto your ass.”

“And why on earth would I talk to you about it?” She shrugged, ignoring the venom in his voice. Why _was_  she doing this? Helping him? Gods, Renly was right, she really was too soft for her own good.

“Because I have a hunch that you have no one else to talk to.”

He looked like she had slapped him, and perhaps he was right to, they were virtual strangers. She didn’t even think he would acknowledge her on the street if they passed. But after some spluttering and name calling, something changed in his expression and his shoulders slumped.

“I went visit my family for a few days. They can be… difficult. The holidays can get a little rough.” He said finally, and Brienne tried to mask her surprise at the confession. She sat away from him a little, but kept her manner open, and motioned for him to continue. He struggled to find the right words for a moment, but then went on.

“My father is a tyrant. Nothing we do is good enough for him, but then if we don’t do anything, we're lazy and useless. My brother has no sense of self preservation, and seems to live for pushing his buttons, and their arguments can be legendary. I feel caught in a cross fire- do I defend my brother? Do I call out my father? I can never tell what I'm supposed to be doing.” He spoke quickly, as if this was the only chance he’d ever gotten to speak his thoughts.

“And then my twin sister, she… she has issues. Big ones. But we're Lannisters, we're perfect, and no one seems to see that she needs help. Or maybe they just don't care.” He finished bitterly, and Brienne wondered if even remembered she was there. After a few moments of silence he got up to leave, and she followed. They picked up their bags and headed into the December snow, Brienne taking her bicycle out of the shelter, while he called a taxi. The student residences weren’t too far away, but he seemed like the type to have his own place off campus. They stared at each other awkwardly, and that unreadable look went over his face again. Brienne shivered, and she wasn’t entirely sure it was from the cold.

“I’m Jaime by the way. Jaime Lannister.” He stuck out his left hand for her to shake, and she took it.

“Brienne Tarth.”

“Right- you’re in Military History right? Maester Aemon’s class.”

She was surprised he remembered, and realised she was still holding his hand, dropping it quickly. She reddened at his smirk.

“Yeah, Revolutions too.”

“Listen Brienne, I know you probably think I’m an asshole, and you’d be right. What I said earlier... it was cruel and unnecessary , and I really do appriciate this.” He said, lifting his bandaged arm up and letting it fall again.

“I don’t-“ She began, stupidly, and cut herself off.

“Don’t what?” He asked gently. Gentler than she would have imagined him capable of. It gave her the confidence to continue.

“Look, you were angry, it happens. You said things you shouldn’t, but I don’t think you’re an asshole.”

He smiled softly, climbing into the back seat of the taxi that pulled up. She hopped onto her bike, pausing as he called her name. He rolled down the window, leaning out of it casually.

"What I was trying to say is I don’t actually think you’re ugly- if that wasn't clear.” He said with a wink, before the car pulled off, leaving her dazed and confused on the steps of the gym.

If Brienne had been confused about Jaime Lannister before, it was nothing to how she was now. He started sitting beside her in lectures, walking her back to her dorm rooms after class, and once his sprain healed up began coming back to the gym too.

He was good company, obvious familial trauma aside, and could be even be nice on occasion. When she teased his tendancy to bring expensive shakes and smoothies with him, he began bringing one of the obnoxious drinks for her too. His insistence that she try them was infuriating, and his delight that she liked them was even more so. He seemed to thrill in annoying her, but somehow it was more palatable than the ones who had teased her before. Most of all he loved making her blush, with his ridiculous propositions and innuendo. He was a ridiculous flirt, and Brienne imagined that it came as naturally to someone like him as breathing. She told herself he wasn't serious- she knew he wasn't. He couldn't be. 

When the snow began to melt away in spring, she mentioned her plans to start running outside again. He smiled widely, and she looked at him warily.

“Why are you smiling like that? It's like I've just told you the secret to happiness.”

He shrugged casually, but kept the manic grin.

“Now I can race you properly. I’ll beat you fair on proper terrain.”

She gasped, and Jaime laughed.

“I _knew_ you were doing it on purpose.”

“Of course I was, you were this glorious Amazon, running like there was no tomorrow, and you expect me to  _not_ take that as a challenge? Wench, do you know me at all.” He answered, faking hurt and clutching at his chest. She blushed furiously.

“My name is Brienne, as you well know. And I’m not some sort of challenge.” She said quietly, not meeting his gaze. She knew it would end like this somehow, that it was always about how she was bigger, taller than him, and that he needed to beat her somehow. She just thought that he was different, that he saw passed her bulk. She was so lost in her own hurt, she barely noticed when he lifted her chin up with his fingers.

He was still smiling, and she finally understood that mysterious expression he seemed to have when looking at her. Her breath caught in her throat when surged up onto his tip toes to kiss her, softly, like she was made of glass. Brienne felt like she might break from the sweetness of it.

“I know you’re not a challenge.”, he said, with that gentle voice he used only for her, “You’re so much more.”


End file.
